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“What’s up, Wills?” Roc asked.

“More than I know what to do with,” I said and turned, waiting for someone to let them in.

Warrick was just emerging from the clubhouse, ducking to fit under the doorframe, then took his sweet time striding our way, and with more arrogance than any one being had a right to.

Chaos muttered a curse.

Warrick finally reached us, and he gave the knights a chin lift. There were muttered greetings all around.

“Can you let them in? We need to know if it’s a demon we’re dealing with.”

“Make this quick,” Warrick said to Chaos. “We don’t want you here longer than necessary.”

God, the male was difficult.

“Fair enough,” Chaos said. “Let’s get this over with then.”

They were allies, but they’d never exactly been bosom buddies.

Warrick’s arm hooked around my waist and he tugged me aside as he opened the gate, like he actually thought one of them would try to snatch me away or something.

I pushed out of his hold and scowled at him. Warrick scowled back, but finally he led the way inside. The sooner I got the hell away from here, the better. He took the stairs, leading the knights below, something he wouldn’t normally do, but there was no other option.

We heard the snarling and cursing, the twisted words filled with hate and violence, as we approached the end of one of the tunnels. Warrick pushed the door open and we filed in.

Maddox was on the stone floor, bleeding from deep scratches over his face and neck. His head snapped our way, black eyes locking on us. “Let me free,” a distorted voice said. “I won’t hurt anyone, I promise.” Its empty gaze slid to me, and Maddox licked his lips.

Chaos moved in then, crouching down, concentration transforming his features. Finally, he lifted his head. “This isn’t demon. This is human. A human soul. Zen?”

Zenon nodded. “Definitely human.” The others nodded their agreement.

Shit. “You can’t help us then?”

Chaos crossed his arms over his wide chest and shook his head. “How did the spirit get into the clubhouse?”

“A human female,” Warrick said.

“Yeah, we can’t meddle in human business. The fact this soul is possessing a hound makes no difference. The angels would lose their shit if we got involved with this. There would be consequences, bad ones. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” This was my task, unless, of course, keeping Jane alive had been part of it. If that were true, then I’d already failed. Though, I kind of thought something would’ve happened by now if that were the case. There’s been no sign from the mother. So, I’d carry on until I knew otherwise.

But I’d had to check with the knights first, otherwise things could have gotten complicated. So now I knew for sure—the scary evil spirit was all mine. Goodie.

I took a small bag from my satchel, our family’s own special mix—rock salt, cemetery dirty, and a few other carefully selected herbs—and lay a thick line of it from wall to wall. “Don’t break this line, and don’t cross it. It will contain the spirit and stop it from moving to someone else.”

The hounds nodded. Then the knights left and I headed back to the room where Jane’s body still lay. What the hell was I going to do with her? I could call Ren. His family didn’t usually work with humans, but I needed a way to get her out of here, and they had a hearse.

“You can’t take her home,” Warrick said, like he could read my mind as he moved up behind me.

“Her mother should get to say goodbye to her daughter.” Jane looked small all of a sudden, fragile. Just an insignificant human in this shitty, fucked-up world filled with monsters.

“You take her home like that, you’ll bring human police here to the clubhouse. It will end in more death.”

I turned to him. “I can’t leave Rebecca wondering for the rest of her life what happened to her kid. That’s cruel, Warrick.”

“That’s how it has to be,” he said, expression cold, unmoved.

“Seriously?”